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My mother is the kind of woman who keeps a spotless home —
weeds plucked, laundry folded, shoes packed away.
So, when I was 5 years old, she put on her rubber gloves —
By Suri Chan11 months ago in Poets
Take me back to Fuji,
to that deserted motel with the rusty pink boats.
To that first rainy night — wet socks and honey chips.
By Suri Chanabout a year ago in Poets